


Puppy Tails - It Hurts

by Aurora_bee



Series: Puppy tails [119]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Broken Bones, Cheating, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fear, Gen, Humor, Hurt John Watson, Idiots in Love, Love, M/M, Makeup, Minor Injuries, Swearing, Trapped, stupid sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-22
Updated: 2014-04-28
Packaged: 2018-01-20 11:01:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1508099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurora_bee/pseuds/Aurora_bee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock kisses a woman in a café, John sees it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Rain dripped down John's nose onto his jacket as he leant against the wall. Gladstone stood next to him watching as his dad took deep breaths, and clutched his chest. The world seemed to be turning on it's own axis, the floor turning to jelly before John's eyes. Their world had been turned irrevocably upside down, and it physically hurt. Gladstone barked as John's phone trilled in his pocket, he ignored it, choosing to take an uneasy step into the street.

"Come on boy." John mumbled pulling Gladstone along. The phone stopped ringing, a moment later the text alert sounded. John pulled his phone out of his pocket and read the message.

John, I'm sorry. It was just stupid. What you saw wasn't what it seemed.  
SH

John snapped his phone shut shoved it in his pocket and carried on walking heading for a safe haven.

 

Earlier that afternoon John had been taking Gladstone for his walk. Sherlock had gone to Barts to do some research, or so he thought. John smelt fresh coffee and headed toward the local Starbucks. As he made his way inside he saw Sherlock sitting at a table, French kissing a woman he'd never seen before. John stopped in horror as pain like he'd never felt before, ripped through his chest. Sherlock pulled away from the woman smiling until he saw John standing outside.

"John!" Sherlock called as he pulled on his coat and dashed outside. John and Gladstone were gone. Sherlock decided not to follow them hoping that John would be able to see that it wasn't what it looked like. The bile rose up in his throat, he swallowed it down cringing at the burn as he walked back to the flat, leaving the woman he'd just kissed alone in the cafe.

 

Sherlock what have you done?  
MH

Sherlock looked down at the phone in his shaking hands and quickly typed out a reply.

I assume John is with you.  
SH

You assume correctly brother. Please apologise and take him home. He's currently hugging Greg and I find it disturbing.  
MH

I don't know if I can fix it.  
SH

You have to. John and Gladstone have started on our ice cream supplies.  
MH

So in 2-4 weeks there will be none left. I'm coming over now I can't guarantee he'll come back with me.  
SH

 

Sherlock walked into Mycroft's lounge to find John sitting on the sofa with a tub of ice cream on his lap an a table spoon in his mouth.

"John." Sherlock said as he sat down.

"Bo avay." John said around is spoon.

"I want to apologise. What I did was stupid." Sherlock replied as a table spoon hit him on the forehead. "Owe."

"You're a bloody cock!" John screamed.

"I just kissed her to prove a point." Sherlock said as he rubbed the bump that was starting to form.

"Oh and what was that. Bloody Sherlock Holmes can seduce anyone he fucking wants with his stupid high cheekbones and sexy good looks." John yelled, Sherlock looked at his shoes. "What point?" John said regaining his composure a little.

"When we were young she told me I was a terrible kisser, she bet me that I wouldn't be any better." Sherlock said dully. 

"Sherlock you're 37 years old, not a teenager." John snapped. "You've hurt me Sherlock."

"I'm sorry John, just come home please. I'll do whatever you want." Sherlock begged. 

"I'm going to need some time Sherlock." John sighed. "I never thought I deserved you, and I'm afraid I was right." Sherlock couldn't think of anything to say that could ease the pain for either of them. Gladstone looked up at his parents of barked, it was nearly tea time.

"Shall I take Gladstone home for his dinner?" Sherlock asked. John nodded and stood. "We should probably make a move. Grab the ice cream." Sherlock watched John say his goodbyes and pull on his coat. He lowered his head as he passed his brother and Greg. Mycroft closed the door after them.

"You certainly have some work to do brother dear." Mycroft muttered as Greg wrapped his arm around his waist.


	2. Chapter 2

"Are you going to sleep in our room tonight?" Sherlock asked the newspaper that John was sitting behind. 

"No." John replied, as he used the paper as a wall.

"It's been three weeks." Sherlock said sadly. John ignored him and continued reading.

Sherlock flopped down on the sofa and buried his head in the soft leather. He blinked back the tears that were threatening to overflow, and wished he could feel numb. It would be no problem to go out and find a hit, it would be better to fell nothing at all than feel the way he did now. Sherlock's mobile signalled a message and he snatched it up from the coffee table.

Don't start to wallow in self pity brother.  
MH

Sherlock quickly typed out a reply.

Mind your own business.  
SH

I have a case for you. I've emailed you the details.  
MH

I'm busy.  
SH

Sulking on the sofa, I know. Do it or I'll send Mummy and Father to see you.  
MH

Sherlock sighed, sat up and pulled his laptop over. Within a few minutes he was typing furiously.

"John, we have a case. Locked room disappearance." Sherlock looked over to the newspaper, which hadn't budged. "I need you." John sighed and folded the paper.

"Fine." John replied dully.

 

By the time they arrived at the address that Mycroft had sent, the sun was setting in the sky. The garden was overgrown with weeds, insects buzzed around in the hazy evening sunlight. They followed the rough gravel path to the entrance, and found that the front door was open as Mycroft had said in his email.

"Owe!" Sherlock said as something stung his leg. He brushed off his trouser leg and entered the house, John quietly trailing behind him. Sherlock decided to focus on the case, putting aside the sick feeling in his stomach. 

"Here it is." Sherlock said as he opened the door to the house's cellar. John grunted in response and followed. Sherlock tried the light switch on the wall and found that it didn't work.

"Here." John said passing Sherlock the pen torch he kept in his pocket. 

"Ah!" Sherlock exclaimed, spotting what he thought was a clue and dashing down the stairs toward it. There was a crash as Sherlock seemed to loose his footing and landed in a heap on the floor. At the same time the cellar door behind John slammed shut.

"Fuck." John said as blindly made his way down the stairs and over to Sherlock and their only light source.

"John." Sherlock called in a voice that seemed very small for him. "I can't feel my legs." John checked the floor and knelt down next to him.

"Sherlock." John said as he snatched the light from him. "I need you to stay still so I can check you for injures."

"I just told you that I can't feel my legs. I'm hardly going to start doing a cancan." Sherlock sniped.

"Did you hit yourself on the way down?" John asked ignoring him as he felt his legs.

"I don't know I couldn't feel anything from the waist down."

"Sherlock work with me here for god sake. Did the paralysis just set in on or was it gradual?" John asked patting down Sherlock's sides.

"I felt strange as I came down the stairs." Sherlock said with a sigh. "You should leave me, just get yourself out."

"Oh for Christ sake Sherlock." John snapped.

"You don't love me any more, there's no point." Sherlock said sniffing and letting his body relax onto the concrete ground in defeat. John took a deep breath and looked skyward.

"Of course I still love you. If I didn't it wouldn't still hurt when I look at you." John helped Sherlock into the recovery position.

"I'm sorry, John I'm so sorry. Please let me explain."

"Sherlock. I need to get you out of here, can this wait?" John said looking toward the door of the cellar. "Someone's up there. That door was too heavy to close on it's own."

"John, I think my mental capacity is affected, I didn't think of that." Sherlock said his eyes growing wide in fear.

"Sherlock it was probably just the shock of falling combined with the paralysis. I'm going to get us out." John replied unconsciously stroking Sherlock's hair. "I promise." John stood clicked his neck and made his way up the staircase.


	3. Chapter 3

John quietly made his way to the top of the stairs, hoping that the light from his torch wouldn’t shine through and gaps around the door, and alert the perpetrator to his actions. He stood quietly listening to hear if there was any movement on the other side. It was a difficult situation, if he tried the door there was no guarantee that whoever was on the other side didn’t have a gun. If John got shot, Sherlock would be left alone, unable to move. John thought for a moment, his army training kicking in. He slowly backtracked down a few steps and turned the torch off. There was a faint glow coming from underneath the door frame, John watched as a shadow was cast. Someone was still there walking around. Cautiously John walked back down the stairs to Sherlock.

“We’re going to have to find another way out.” John whispered as he sat down next to Sherlock. 

“I think I was shot by a dart gun of some kind.” Sherlock said quietly. “I thought an insect had stung me when I came into the house. I brushed it off, it was tiny.”

“God, I need to get you out. Whatever’s in your system can’t be good.” John pulled his phone out. If he couldn’t sort it out himself he wasn’t afraid to call for help. “Shit.” John cursed upon seeing that his phone had no reception. “Sherlock where’s your phone?”

“Inside pocket, on the right.” Sherlock replied with a tinge of satisfaction as John took it out. 

“No reception, I don’t understand. Are these cellar walls lead lined or something?” He said as he worried his lip.

“Mobile phone jammer John.” Sherlock replied, as he turned his head slightly to look at him. “It means that this was planned.”

“Who?” John asked.

“The obvious answer would be Mycroft. But I don’t understand why.” 

“This is one of your tricks isn’t it! To try and get me to forgive you.” John tried to whisper, it came out more like a shout though.

“You think I’m pretending I can’t feel my legs?” Sherlock snapped, angry that John would accuse him of such a thing.

“Well I never know with you, you lie to me all the time.” John said with venom.

“Fine!” Sherlock replied dragging himself into a sitting position. He grabbed the nearest thing to him, a piece of metal piping and hit himself across the ankle. John cringed as he heard a crack, Sherlock looked up at him sadly. “I can’t feel my legs John.” Sherlock’s lip started to tremble.

“God you shouldn’t have done that you stupid idiot!” John said taking the piping from Sherlock. “I’m sorry, I just don’t believe Mycroft would intentionally hurt you.”

“You don’t know Mycroft well at all then do you.” Sherlock spat.

“Just help me Sherlock, please, I need to get you out.” John replied frantic.

“There were no cellar windows to the front of the building. There may possibly be some to the back. But from the disarray of this building I wouldn’t believe any alterations have been made.” Sherlock replied. 

John made a cursory check using the light from his phone as a torch and returned a few minutes later. There were no windows no trap doors, nothing, they were trapped.

“How are you feeling?” John asked feeling his stomach sink at the thought of not being able to escape.

“It’s not getting any worse.” Sherlock replied.

“Good.” John said smoothing Sherlock’s hair back from his face. “Why did you do it? Wasn’t I enough?” John suddenly blurted out.

“John. It’s stupid. The woman was Victoria Trevor, the only other person I have ever made love to. Although I don’t like to admit it, her rejection and subsequent loose lips hurt me. I just wanted to make her feel something of what I went through. I’d planned for you to walk past after I’d kissed her, and I was going to make a show of how in love with you I am.” Sherlock said, as John’s jaw dropped in surprise.

“You’re an idiot.” John replied softening. “And I love my idiot.” John said as he bent to press a chaste kiss against Sherlock’s lips.

Light suddenly flooded the room and the cellar door opened. Momentary blinded John grabbed the pipe and stood in front of Sherlock ready to defend him with his life. As a shadow of a person made its way down the stairs.

“Oh John, you are so over dramatic.” Mycroft voice said sarcastically. John dropped the pipe, as his vision cleared and Mycroft walked toward him.

“You, you…” John clenched his fist. “Bastard…” He said as he punched Mycroft square in the nose.

 

“Are you sure you can manage this?” John said as he watched Sherlock hobble down Baker Street on his crutches, avoiding Gladstone as he got in the way.

“I’m sure.” Sherlock said with a lopsided smile. They reached Starbucks and as they expected Victoria was sitting at the table in the window waiting for Sherlock. John picked Gladstone up and put him under his coat as they entered the café.

“Sherlock!” She said looking at the cast on his leg. “What have you done?”

“Accident with a pipe.” Sherlock replied as she air kissed him. 

“I see you’ve brought an acquaintance along. Hello I’m Victoria.” She said holding her hand out. 

“John, nice to meet you Victoria.” He said as he shook her hand, she grinned at Gladstone’s head sticking out of his jacket.

“John’s my partner.” Sherlock added.

“Oh you’re in business together how lovely.” She said smiling and taking a sip of her coffee.

“That, and he likes to fuck me senseless.” John said grinning from ear to ear as Victoria sprayed her mouthful of coffee all over the table.

“Urg…” Victoria said coughing into her serviette. Sherlock stood like a statue seemingly unable to move.

“He’s very good too, sometimes I can’t sit for days.” John sat down, Sherlock automatically sat next to him. Victoria picked up her bag and scurried to the door. Without saying a word she left. “I think I might have made her a little uncomfortable.” John giggled.

“I couldn’t have done better myself.” Sherlock said giving John a peck on the cheek. Gladstone wriggled between them and let out a little jealous woof.

“Don’t you start.” John said laughing.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A cavet as requested by Epsentinel.
> 
> Mycroft's black eye.

“So John punched you then?” Greg asked as he wrapped a handful of ice in a tea towel and handed it to Mycroft. They were in Mycroft’s oversized kitchen as Greg used his first aid skills to clean Mycroft up.

“It appears that he didn’t appreciate my intervention.” Mycroft replied as he pulled his bloody handkerchief away from his nose to replace with the ice pack. Greg sighed and flicked the kettle on. If John Watson had punched Mycroft, he was certain that he must have had a good reason even though he adored Mycroft he knew that sometimes the man had no idea when to stop.

“What did you do to him?” Greg said bluntly. Mycroft tried to lift en eyebrow but ended up groaning in pain.

“What makes you think I did anything to John?” Mycroft said settling the icepack on the right side of his nose where he had taken the brunt of the punch.

“Great, you did something to Sherlock.” Greg said as he measured out some tea leaves and put them into the pot. “You know that’s not the best thing to do. You’re lucky John wasn’t foaming at the mouth. He’s like a bear protecting his cub with Sherlock.”

“I’m not completely sure John would appreciate that analogy.” Mycroft muttered, as the kettle clicked off and Greg poured the boiling water over the tea leaves. “I had no intention of permanently injuring Sherlock. The idiot broke his own ankle.” 

“Oh, god.” Greg groaned, as he realised he would have to deal with a grumpy 6 foot detective on crutches for the next six weeks. “You’re sure it’s broken?” Greg asked hopefully.

“In several places I believe from the crack I heard when he hit himself with a pipe.” Mycroft replied pulling the icepack away and blinking. “How bad is it?” Greg stepped over and had a closer look.

“I don’t think it’s broken, but you’re going to have a shiner in the morning.” Greg said before getting the jug of milk from the fridge. “Why didn’t you go to the ER with this anyway?” Mycroft didn’t reply instead watching as Greg poured a little milk into each of their china teacups. “Myc?” 

“I’m going to have to cancel my appointment with the French ambassador tomorrow.” Mycroft said glumly.

“Doesn’t really give a good impression does it.” Greg replied with a grin. “Although I find it kind of sexy. “Makes you look like a bit of a bad boy.” The corner of Mycroft’s mouth quirked up in a smile as Greg poured the tea into the mugs through the antique tea strainer.

“Why don’t we forgo the tea for now? I think I may need to retire for the afternoon.” Mycroft said as he sauntered over to the doorway. “Would you care to join me?” 

“I don’t see why not. I’m not feeling very tired though.” Greg said grinning widely.

“Neither am I.” Mycroft replied with an out of character wink. “Bring the whipped cream.” Greg dashed to the fridge and pulled out the can.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry I felt a little sad so I wrote a sad fic. I'm pretty sure Mycroft is going to sort them both out though.


End file.
